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Authors: Gwynne Forster

When You Dance With The Devil (Dafina Contemporary Romance) (16 page)

BOOK: When You Dance With The Devil (Dafina Contemporary Romance)
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All she could think of then was a means of escape. “I’d better hurry, since I have to dress before supper,” she said and scampered off, humiliated for having exposed her shortcomings to a man obviously of high status.
 
 
For long minutes, Richard remained where she’d left him, bewildered by his own reaction to the disadvantages and what must have been suffering of another human being. He had felt for the woman, had for a moment put himself in her place and wondered how he would have fared if he’d suffered as she obviously had.
“This is terrible,” he said to himself. “She believes I think badly of her.” He walked on to the boardinghouse, more slowly than was his wont, and reached it with barely enough time to wash up and get to his seat in the dining room by seven o’clock.
At supper, he did his best not to let Jolene catch him watching her, but she had become an enigma to him, a puzzle that bothered him. His ability at problem solving was the primary reason why he reached the top in the diplomatic field, and he meant to solve the problem of Jolene. For a start, he wanted to know why she had toyed with Percy Lucas.
“That one’s easy,” Judd said when Richard broached the matter while they played blackjack later that evening. “Nobody dishes out pain with more skill than those who’ve been its victims.”
“In other words, nobody uses like one who’s been used? Right?”
“That’s about it,” Judd said, “but there’s hope for that one, because she’ll listen.”
Richard glanced to his left to see a small table beside his chair, and looked around as Marilyn approached him with a pot of coffee and a tray of noel cookies.
“You’re not about to turn these down,” she said. “Judd will tell you how good they are. He loves them.”
He stared at her. “Thanks, but in that case, I suggest you put this table beside Judd’s chair. I don’t care for any cookies.”
She fastened her knuckles to her hips and smiled at him. “Richard, nobody turns down my cookies.”
He tossed out a joker and smiled triumphantly at his card partner. “I wouldn’t either if they didn’t come with a price.”
She sidled up to him. “Now, Richard, that’s not true. I just want to be friendly. That’s all.”
He looked at Judd. “Friendly, eh? I’m supposed to believe that? Next, she’ll pee on my leg and tell me it’s raining.”
Marilyn stomped off, and Judd leaned back in the rocker and released a guffaw. “Ain’t heard nothing that funny in years. You can put that little table over here. Nothing on it will go to waste.” He winked at Richard. “I got you to thank for these. They’re m’ favorites, and she knows it, but you see who she gave them to. The old girl ain’t dead yet.”
“As far as I’m concerned, she’s dead and buried. Pass me a couple of those cookies.” He went to the water cooler and got a paper cup. “You use that cup and saucer she brought, Judd. I don’t want her to see me with it. You’d have thought she’d bring you a cup and saucer.”
Judd savored a cookie and sipped the coffee. “You don’t know Marilyn. I told you she’s like poverty; you can’t get rid of it, and you can’t get rid of
her
.”
“I look at her as payment for my sins. But if she doesn’t back off, I’ll change tactics and take everything she offers except what she most wants me to have. And if she acts out, I’ll charge her with sexual harassment.”
“D . . . don’t do that,” Judd sputtered. “This is the best kitchen in Pike Hill, and if she went to jail, I’d miss all these good meals. I’d have to testify against you.”
Richard laughed in spite of his effort to appear serious. “Now I know that your real friend is your belly.” He sobered at once. “Can you believe Jolene Tilman’s sitting over there in an animated conversation with Lila Mae Henry. First time I’ve seen her talk with a woman.”
“Same here,” Judd said. “Jolene’s lonely. Maybe she and Lila Mae can become friends. It would be a blessing.”
Chapter Six
 
Jolene pulled her chair closer to Lila Mae Henry, a short woman who fit perfectly into a size twenty dress. “I wanted to go to college, but my mama said college would be wasted on me. Did you finish?”
“Sure thing, and I got my masters degree, too,” Lila Mae said, her eyes sparkling in her attractive, animated face. “You can still go in the evenings. Course, you’d miss the campus fun that full-time students have.” Her gaze shifted to the ceiling. “I guess you’ve passed the age for that kind of foolishness anyway.”
Maybe, but she would still like to experience it. She leaned forward, eager to learn about college. “What kind of fun did you have? I thought you just studied in college.”
Lila Mae slapped the side of her jaw and rolled her eyes, suggesting that the thought was ludicrous. “Girl, go way from here. You kidding? Me and my roommate used to kill a half pint of booze every Saturday night. My dad’s a preacher, and he wouldn’t even let my sister and me wear lipstick and perfume. Soon as I got to college, I went wild.
“I was popular because I was the drummer in the jazz band.” She held both hands up, palms out. “If daddy had known that, he would have jerked me out of Hampton faster than a tornado shoots through flat land. Anyhow, I was slim in those days, and what with playing in the band and being on the speed skating and fencing teams, I had a ball. I quit boozing in my junior year when the dean caught us and I nearly got expelled.”
“Gee. I don’t drink. My mama didn’t allow any alcoholic drinks in the house. She said that only loose women drank.”
Lila Mae sucked air through her teeth. “She must have been related to my dad. He was so restrictive that he made every sinful thing appear enticing. Soon as I left home, I did practically everything he told me not to do.”
“Didn’t you feel guilty?”
“About what? I was young.”
Maybe that was the difference, because she was certainly ashamed of the bad things she’d done. “What about boys? Did you . . . uh . . . you know?”
Lila Mae buffed her nails on the sleeve of her blouse. “Yes, indeedy. That, too. And here I am stuck in this place with four men—five if you count Rodger, three of whom don’t inspire me to walk in my sleep—and one who wouldn’t open his door if I did.”
“If Richard opened his door, what would you do?”
Lila Mae’s face took on the expression of a purring feline. “I’d crawl in, girl. He can walk around with his head high like he’s the president of the United States, but he can’t fool me. That man’s a stud.”
“Richard? He’s a gentleman.”
Lila Mae’s laugh rang throughout the lounge. “Grace and charm are part of being a stud, girl. Don’t you know that? I’ll bet he can’t count the women he’s had.”
“Francine’s his type.”
“Women are his type. I’m waiting to see what he’s going to do with Marilyn. She’s after him like a cat after a mouse.”
“He won’t go for her.”
“If you set food in front of a hungry man, he’s not likely to push it aside. Trust me.”
Jolene put her hand over her mouth to cut off a yawn. “Don’t you like him? He’s handsome.”
Lila Mae flexed her left shoulder in a quick shrug. “I learned long ago to like who likes me and not to want what I can’t get. He wouldn’t look twice at me.”
Eager for her first lesson in the ways of men, Jolene sought to prolong the conversation. “Why not? You’re nice looking.”
“Girl, wake up. That man’s never been inside of a size twenty and never will, no matter what kind of face is on top of it.”
“My mama always said men are only after what they can get.”
“I hate to tell you, honey, but your mama had it all wrong. Some guys are wonderful. You have to know how to pick them and what to do with ’em after you get ’em.”
“You ever been married?”
Lila Mae frowned, and an expression of sadness swept over her face. “Yeah. And to a great guy, but I messed up, and that was that. I have to do some lesson plans for tomorrow. Nice talking with you.”
For a while, Jolene remained as Lila Mae left her, trying to digest the woman’s words and to understand her attitudes. Finally, nonplussed, she headed for her room. “I’m not happy with who I am, but I’m not sure I want to be like her.”
Up in her room, she stood at the window gazing out past the darkness to the stars that blanketed the night sky and shudders crept threw her body. She folded her arms beneath her breasts for comfort.
I wish I hadn’t ruined everything with Gregory. I could help Richard for an hour with the children in the computer classes, and I could go to church with Fannie sometime. I could even walk to the library tomorrow evening with Judd.
She sniffed to avoid crying,
If I was just coming to Pike Hill and knew what I know now, I’d do everything differently.
 
 
Jolene overslept the next morning, had to leave the boarding house without breakfast, and hopped on the bus a minute before the driver closed the door. She paid her fare and, unable to force herself to take a seat, lingered at the front of the bus. When the driver’s radio emitted the haunting strains of “Where Was I?” she turned to go.
“Anything I can do for you, sis?” the driver asked.
She walked back to him. “Have you heard anything from Harper Masterson?”
“I hear he’s still slipping in and out of a coma. You sure there’s nothing between the two of you?”
“I rode his bus twice a day for three months. Isn’t that enough to care about a person?” she said. But did it explain the guilt she felt when she thought of him? Nobody had to tell her that he’d been thinking of her when he wrecked his car.
The driver stopped at a railroad crossing for the approaching train and looked at her. “Hey. Don’t bark at me. Go see him for yourself. This bus stops three blocks from Mercy Hospital.”
“Thanks. I will.”
The morning passed and, at the beauty parlor, Vida ignored Jolene as if she weren’t there. “What’s with you two?” her boss asked. “I don’t want my workers mad at each other. The customers can sense it.” She told him the truth. “You should have caught on the first time,” he said. “Every gal in this shop is on to Vida. Leave her alone.”
“I have, sir, but I feel sorry for her children.”
“We all do, but that’s no reason to stick your head in the fire.”
She remembered Judd’s advice and nodded. “I have a lot to learn. I’m thinking about taking some evening classes.”
“Yeah? Education is a good thing: Go for it! But textbooks don’t teach you how to deal with people. Experience teaches you that.” He patted her shoulder. “You’ll do all right.”
She didn’t know why, but she felt better about herself.
Saturday, I’m going to see Harper and tell him how sorry I am. If I hadn’t upset him, maybe he wouldn’t have had that accident.
 
 
“Harper, this is Jolene,” she whispered, looking down at the man’s bandaged head, arms and shoulders that gave him the appearance of a mummy. “Can you hear me?”
“Yes. I hear you.”
“I’m sorry about your accident. That . . . and everything else. I didn’t act right. Do you need anything?”
“Like what?”
She thought for a minute. What did men use that he might need or enjoy? “I could read to you, bring you some toilet articles, or maybe some food.”
A groan escaped him, and she leaned closer. “Something must be wrong with my head,” he said. “You don’t do things for people. Remember? You have people doing things for you.”
She hadn’t expected animosity. Indeed, she hadn’t anticipated any kind of reaction from him. “I told you I am sorry. I’m sorry about a lot of things, and I’m trying to make amends.”
“Well, don’t have a guilt trip on my account. The doctor told me this morning that I’ll be as good as new. It’ll take a couple of months, but I’ll get there. Pull that shade down before you go. The sun’s shining right in my eyes.”
She pulled the shade. “I hope you’ll be better soon.” He didn’t respond. “Bye,” she said, but she wasn’t sure that he heard her, for he didn’t answer.
She met a doctor in the corridor. “Doctor, when did Harper Masterson come out of the coma?”
“A couple of days ago. Surprised all of us. He’s out of danger, and from now on he ought to make good progress.”
She had to be certain. “So his thinking is clear?”
“Clear as a blue sky.”
She thanked him and hurried out of the hospital. It hadn’t been pleasant. Harper didn’t appreciate her visit, but she was glad she’d gone to see him for she felt less guilty. On the way home, she stopped at a flower stall and bought a bunch of chrysanthemums. She loved flowers, and those yellow and white blooms complemented her room.
She met Judd in the hallway when she entered the boardinghouse and, on an impulse, handed him the flowers. “I hope you like yellow flowers,” she told him. “They’re my favorites.”
His eyes widened, and she could see that she shocked him. “Well. Well, well.” His fingers caressed the clear plastic that covered the flowers. “Thank you. I don’t know when I’ve received such a nice present. Do you have a minute for a glass of ginger ale?”
“I’d love it.” She tried to make herself tell him about Harper, but couldn’t because she didn’t want him to think badly of her. Instead, she asked him, “Do you ever feel like you want to leave here?” She had begun to enjoy the ginger ale that he always offered as a king would offer the finest of spirits.
“Nope,” he said. “This is my home. After I convinced Louvenia that I wasn’t stupid enough to fall into her clutches, I came to love the place.”
Her lower lip dropped. “Louvenia? You mean she—?”
“Why not? I don’t have any heirs, and she expects to outlive me.”
“Well, I’ll be . . . ! When I heard her bad-mouthing me to Arnetha Farrell, I figured she was one of those old women who’d led a perfect life and wore a halo to prove it.”
Laughter rumbled in his throat. “Louvenia worked over fifty years for one family as a live-in maid. But she did more than cook and keep house, so when the old man died, he left her well-fixed.”
Jolene swallowed hard. “She told you that?”
“She brags about it to anybody who’ll listen.” When Jolene’s bottom lip dropped, he added, “No point in being shocked. All the saints are in heaven. The creatures you see around here are all human, just like you and me.” He looked at his watch. “It’s five forty-five. I got to be getting over to the library. See you at supper.”
 
 
“You know Judd better than I do,” Richard said to Fannie at supper that night. He especially liked the Monday suppers because Marilyn had the night off, and the sous-chef always served Italian food. As usual, Fannie didn’t wait to hear his point.
“I should. I’ve known him a lot longer than you have.”
“Which proves nothing, Fannie. My point is that he’ll be eighty-five in a few days, and I’d like to give him a real party. What I want to know is whether it should be a surprise.”
She thought for a minute. “What a wonderful idea. No, I don’t think you should surprise him.”
“Thanks. One more thing. I’ll tell Marilyn what I want and how I want it, and if she shows me she can’t follow instructions, I’ll hire a caterer and have it somewhere else.”
“She’ll do as I say.”
“I’ll believe that when I see it.”
“You’re fond of Judd, aren’t you?”
“Looks that way. He’s getting to be the first real friend I ever had.”
She stared at him. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
He shrugged. “Why shouldn’t I be? My life has changed drastically and completely since I’ve been here.”
“I hope you’re satisfied.”
“Let’s just say I’m adjusting. Sometimes I don’t know the man who gets out of my bed every morning.”
“I’ll bet you had a chauffeur.”
“Chauffeur? A valet, housekeeper, social secretary, and you name it. As I look back, it’s a wonder I didn’t step on those people. They were everywhere. I didn’t have a damned bit of privacy.”
She had stopped eating and stared at him in awe. “And you didn’t think about that then?”
He shook his head. “It was laughable. The only thing I lifted was myself and my tennis racket.”
“I don’t see how anybody could enjoy that,” she said, returning to her raspberry sorbet.
“As I think about it, neither do I.”
 
 
Jolene didn’t rush up to her room as she usually did after meals, but headed for the lounge hoping that Judd would go there as usual and that he’d have the books he promised to bring from the library. She started toward him, but Barbara Sanders, a woman of around fifty, who clerked at the local movie house, waylaid her.
BOOK: When You Dance With The Devil (Dafina Contemporary Romance)
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